Looks Like We're in Heaven
by Katherine Clearwater
Summary: A girl from Ayortha meets her destiny in Kyrria. When she discovers plots to kill the descendents of Ella & Char, she must find help in a young and uncertain queen, a prince who is more than who he seems, and two legendary women from the past...
1. The Fairy Book

Looks Like We're in Heaven  
  
Kelley Christensen  
  
~-~  
  
A/N: This is an Ella Enchanted fanfic that takes place about a hundred years after the events take place. Thus, we have here the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of our beloved Ella and Char, now gone and deceased and legends. So now everybody in this story looks up to them as if they were gods or something, like the English look up to Queen Elizabeth.  
  
And my modes of inspiration for this story is the song 'Heaven' by DJ Sammy & Yanou (I watched the music video ^_~), but it was just a song, and what really shows up in the story is its backbone, the manga Cinderella Express. It's really a great read, and I thought, hey, Ella Enchanted and Cinderella Express have a lot in common (Cinderella, duh), so there you go, that's how the story was made.  
  
=+++=  
  
One ~ The Fairy Book  
  
The bells chorused a peel of jubilation in the towers above, and the picture panned downwards to include the cheering crowd below. Streams of brightly colored paper fluttered to earth as the people shouted and bowed to the newly-wedded royals passing by.  
  
The king was still young; he had barely been in his twenties when his father, the late King Alexis, passed away. And now, four months after he had been sworn in to take on the duties of King, he married. And his bride looked younger than he, yet she looked so beautiful in her snow wedding dress, the veil drawn over her head, accenting her blushing face and blond curls.  
  
A roar of delight washed over the multitude as the king turned to his wife and kissed her. The large bouquet of roses brushed coolly against their chins, bathing them in organic fragrance. They drew away, smiling and gazing at each other.  
  
Everywhere around them, the people bowed or curtsied as they passed, creating a wave of rippling heads. There was no end to the number in the crowd, it seemed. The queen had never been so happy; she wasn't used to this new treatment, and she hoped the long walk to the carriage a distance away wouldn't be too long. She hadn't anticipated this small stately parade would continue for so long. All she wanted was time with her husband. Meanwhile, she put on a warm face and waved shyly to the people on the sides.  
  
The picture today showed such a joyful scene.  
  
Murmuring in contentment, I turned the page. I almost felt like I knew that girl, her face was so friendly. On the next page I expected another picture, but instead was a copy of a brief flyer, hastily written and printed. It read:  
  
Breaking news from Frell, capital city of Kyrria:  
Today marks the marriage of Kyrria's young and noble king, Edward, and  
of his beautiful queen! Queen Janelle, whose story compares with the  
Honorable Court Linguist Eleanor, is only sixteen years old! Although  
the queen is not of noble blood, she is very bright and kind! More  
later when details are available. This is the Early Herald reporting  
the marriage of His Majesty, the king of Kyrria. The Herald: always  
the first to bring you the latest news.  
  
I gasped out loud. I read it again. And again. No, it wasn't possible. Simply impossible! Flipping back the page, I saw the picture again, this time of the newlyweds getting into a sleek, white carriage with six beautiful, white stallions. Once inside, the two of them looked out of the same window and waved back at the crowd, and I once again saw the girl's face. There could be no mistake - this was the same Sharn.  
  
"Mother!" I frantically called. "Oh the fairies, Mother!" I rubbed my hand roughly across the page, patting the words. Oh, how I was excited!  
  
Mother rushed to me in a flash.  
  
"What is it, Mari baby?! Are you hurt?"  
  
I brushed it away impatiently. "No, but there's something I have to show you!" Shoving the book around, I gave it to Mother, who took it up quizzically and read.  
  
After seconds of skimming, eyes darting back and forth, they froze. Her brown eyes widened in amazement and disbelief, then retraced to the beginning to read more attentively. After a moment, she put the book back down on my bed.  
  
"This is the fairy book, isn't it?"  
  
I nodded in the affirmative.  
  
"You shouldn't use it too much; it's very old."  
  
I sighed. It was old, but I liked it. It was fun to play with.  
  
"If it wasn't for the fairy book," I explained, "then we wouldn't have known about Sharn - I mean - Queen Janelle's marriage," I corrected myself. It would be hard to get used to Sharn's real name, including her new title. And that was when I realized that so much had happened since the last time we saw each other.  
  
Mother rubbed her forehead and looked at me under her brows. "Yes, but do you know how rare this type of thing is? Only several exist in this world - and only one that belonged to the legendary Ella of Frell! So this is the most important thing that resides in this house. Only it's worth more than the house and the inn put together. Is that understood?"  
  
I looked away from Mother. She had a point, there, but I could never, ever, give up that book. I had to change the subject back around. I turned back wearing silly grin on my face.  
  
"But still!" I said, "Sharn's a queen!"  
  
I began to sing joyously and hopped off the bed and galloped around, twirling, dancing on my toes. Mother sighed, but watched my antics, entertained. I belted out a traditional song of celebration, a song that was sung when the men came home from war. Therefore, it had a marching beat to it, and all I had to do was replace some words like 'troop' for 'Sharn' and I turned the song into a slightly comical tune. Since I didn't know the dance, I made up steps of my own.  
  
I poured out my soul into the song. From where I come from, we sing a lot. And for any occasion - weddings, parties, funerals - even when drinking, we sang. There was a song for everything you could think of - from rolling out dough for pastries to tinkling in the bushes. It was crazy, but it was traditional. My voice was lovely, as would years of voice training would do to you. But I'm not bragging. All of Ayortha sings.  
  
My mother, who watched on the side, soon joined in and skipped in circles with me while we chanted, "Queen, Queen, Queen! Long live the Queen!"  
  
=+++=  
  
I strode leisurely into the kitchen to find my mother working laboriously over a meat pie. But I just came in to check up on her, so yawning, I turned back towards the door. But Mother's sharp voice blocked me.  
  
"Marika! Just because you've finished your chores doesn't mean 'do nothing else'! You're already fifteen, yet you don't even have a boyfriend!"  
  
I was about to make a comeback when I froze. I always freeze up when it comes to boys, even talking about them. For me, it's a touchy subject.  
  
She raved on. "Queen Janelle is only a year older than you, yet she's already married to a king! You're nothing compared to her!"  
  
I stomped out of the kitchen and back outside. Her words had stung me where it hurts.  
  
'You're nothing compared to her!'  
  
"Hmph," I kicked at some grass furiously. "That's right, Mother. And I'll bet it's genetic!"  
  
Ever since Sharn turned into Queen Janelle, Mother put even more pressure on me to get married. She said that Marika was just as good of a person as Sharn had been, and that if I tried, I would be married to a decent man within the next year. Of course, it also meant that her daughter would be out of the house and it meant one less mouth to feed. Money was short in my family, and since it wasn't the time of year for travel, very few people had been stopping at the little inn we ran.  
  
Historically, the inn is a landmark in our tiny town, Areeb. My great- grandmother's name was Lady Areida, who was at first a poor Ayorthaian commoner. Then she made friends with the Lady Ella of Frell, and when Ella married the prince, Areida was made a lady. Although Lady Areida was one of the more powerful women of the Kyrrian court, she couldn't stand to leave her home for long, so after a few years she left court and stayed home, thus becoming known as "The Lady who Sits like a Commoner". It was also known that Lady Areida and Court Linguist Ella (for Ella had not liked the title of Queen) had been very tight. So tight, in fact, that there were rumors of a secret transaction that had been made between them, but it was a well-kept secret kept even from the Kyrrian royal family. Only one very select family kept the secret alive.  
  
I rounded the corner to the front of the inn. From there you can see the road. On one end, it led to the center of town where most travelers stopped by to replenish their stores. On the other end, the road stretched out into a vast expanse of farms and wilderness. And this is where I stopped curiously, a horse was galloping my way from the countryside. Aha! Perhaps this was a long-awaited customer!  
  
I waited for the rider to catch up while fidgeting. Behind, a trail of dust rose up and into the cloudless sky. As the rider was riding directly for me, I could only see him from the front, and there was an illusion that he wasn't making any progress up the road at all. But slowly the figure became larger, then he pulled up beside me. He dismounted with a grace and ease that I admired in him and strode up to me. His clothes were foreign, yet he was well-dressed. Perhaps he had come from the court of Kyrria! My heart leapt. Maybe he had news from Sharn!  
  
The rider caught my attention with a bow and a swish of his dusty, but rich cape. "Are you Marika of Areeb?"  
  
I nodded with quick anticipation.  
  
"Ah. I bear a message. The Queen Janelle wishes you to visit. She was hopeful you would come." He spoke with as few words as possible, so that each word he said was important. The messenger studied my appearance. Apparently he was doubtful that a friend of the beautiful queen would be so plain and timid-looking.  
  
"Oh...oh! Sharn - I mean - Queen Janelle! I...I would love...oh...er," I stumbled over my words in excitement. I hadn't spoken Kyrrian for a while. "Er, let me ask my parents...first." And I dashed off, rounding the corner to the back again, reaching the kitchen.  
  
"Mother! Mother, Queen Janelle asked me if I could visit her! Can I?!"  
  
Mother straightened up from crouching over the fire, tending to the roasting of the pork on a spit. She pulled the sweaty hair out of her eyes and looked at me.  
  
"Oh, Mari. That's wonderful. But -"  
  
I didn't let her finish the sentence. I was afraid to let her finish it, because I knew what she would say. "Oh, hold on, Mother - I left the guy who told me standing in front. I have to bring him in."  
  
I ran out on her. Poor Mother. Around the corner was the messenger, still waiting patiently, albeit it was wearing thin. I timidly tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around, his expression I couldn't read.  
  
"You can come in if you like; stay a free night, too. You could talk with my parents, and if I can go, then we'll be off no later than noon tomorrow," I said confidently. Bet he couldn't tell I had practiced before I came up front. "Oh, and...uh...I'll take your horse." That was smooth.  
  
After I had untacked the horse - the saddle was surprisingly light - I joined the man inside and gave him a key to a room. But before he left, he handed me a letter.  
  
"Queen Janelle wrote this. It explains everything in detail." And then he climbed the stairs.  
  
Once I heard the door upstairs click shut, I hurried over to the fireside. An old man sat in one of the chairs, asleep, so I took a chair across from him and looked at the envelope.  
  
It was a fancy thing; the envelope was constructed of fine parchment and the seal in back was indigo with a coat of arms. It was Kyrria's royal insignia. I carefully peeled the seal off - I wanted to save it - and shook out a letter also of parchment. With trembling fingers, I opened it up and read.  
  
Dear Mari,  
I assume you already know of my marriage to the King of Kyrria.  
If you don't, forgive me, for it was all so sudden that I didn't have  
time to tell you.  
But now I'm hoping that you can spend time with me, and that's  
why I sent a courier to ask you. His name is Hammond, but he doesn't  
speak unless he has to, and when he does, he says so little. So  
please forgive him, he has nothing against you.  
Life at the palace is wonderful, yet (here there was a long  
scratch out) it isn't the same without you. Please, if you will come,  
let Hammond know and he will be ready to leave as soon as you are. If  
you can't come, then I hope to see you again sometime. If money is a  
problem, tell your parents that I will pay for the expenses.  
Love,  
Sharn  
  
I looked up. The lead weight in my stomach had lifted; the feelings of guilt and regret fled. With Sharn paying for the expenses, it was impossible for my parents to say no.  
  
That night, when my parents were both inside serving dinner to the guests, I approached them.  
  
"Mother, Father, may I visit Queen Janelle in Kyrria?"  
  
They looked at me.  
  
"Pleeeeeaaase??"  
  
My father spoke. "Honey, I think with our situation right now..." He broke off and exchanged worried glances with my mother.  
  
"No! You don't understand. Queen Janelle will pay!" I showed them the letter.  
  
Mother said, "But it's impolite to let others pay for you. Maybe if you work really hard..."  
  
"Mother!" I yelled, exasperated. "She's a queen! Expenses like these are nothing to her now!"  
  
"But even so, it's money, and what's more, you're making Kyrria pay for it, not Queen Janelle. Her money now comes from their taxes," she explained.  
  
"Haaarrrggghh!!"  
  
Now Hammond, who was sitting a couple seats away, turned in his seat and said, "Queen Janelle was hoping for Marika to go. She said she would gladly pay."  
  
Mother and Father looked at each other for a long moment. Sometimes, I suspect they are reading each other's thoughts when they do that. Then Father smiled at me.  
  
"You may go, Marika. But take care and behave."  
  
He lengthened that last word, but I understood. The reputation of the family and of Ayortha was resting on my shoulders. You could count on me to behave.  
  
That evening when I was leaving the dining room, my mother caught my arm as I was on my way out. She whispered, "Don't forget what I told you this morning," and winked. It took me until I had reached the hallway connecting the inn to our house when I realized what she had meant. I covered my face in embarrassment. 


	2. The High Road

Chapter Two ~ The High Road  
  
My feet slapped softly on the stairs as I tiptoed from my room. The house was extra-quiet when I left, as if a blanket was muffling out the sound. I opened the door into the inn and chose to slip inside the dining room, deciding on getting a bite to eat first. Breakfast wasn't served for another hour, so there were no guests up and about and upstairs is soundless.  
  
I picked a piece of fruit from the table centerpiece and munched on it slowly, looking around as I do. I wanted to remember this place really well so it would take longer for me to forget how it looks. I was going away for about the whole summer - more if it worked out with the Queen and my parents.  
  
It sounded strange using the word. One, I was using it casually, like, 'The Queen is coming over today,' or something. Two, it was just so weird using it when I was referring to my sort-of long-lost old best friend.  
  
I first met Janelle of Frell when she moved in next door. It was ten years ago, when I was around five and she six. Her father was an ambassador of a sort to a Kyrrian middleman trade, and at first they stayed at our inn, for what better place to stay then at the very place where a little piece of Kyrrian-Ayorthaian history took place? Then, when their situation became more permanent, they moved in next door.  
  
Janelle and I had chemistry. We worked out the moment we first talked to each other, and then, my Kyrrian wasn't so good. It went sort of like this:  
  
'Hello.'  
  
'Hi...'  
  
'I'm Janelle from Frell. It rhymes. What's yours?'  
  
'Uh...'  
  
'It's okay, you can call me Jane.'  
  
'Shayn?'  
  
'No, it's Jane. JUH-ane.'  
  
'SHA-ayrn.'  
  
And it goes on. Initially, communicating was a bit difficult, but over time, Jane managed to teach me better Kyrrian, and she gradually helped me build up better grammar skills and got rid of my accent. She was the best Kyrrian teacher I ever had, and in return, I taught her Ayorthaian the same way she taught me. Soon, we were both combining the languages so that when both our parents were present, we could mix up the two languages so they couldn't follow. We always kept a special private space between us, and it felt special. We had other friends, but nobody else could make us feel the same as when we were with each other, and we lived like sisters.  
  
We gave each other names from our languages. Mine wasn't changer much, since my name was so similar already to a Kyrrian name, Mari. But since there was no Ayorthaian name for 'Jane', then I gave her a name that was pronounced phonetically similar: Sharn.  
  
Years flew by and we grew up together. We each shared our moments of disagreement, and we did fight a little. They were small fights, though, and we made up in the end. Basically, we went through everything. We lost baby teeth, grew taller, and developed maturity - all the things girls go through when growing up.  
  
Then, one day, I found Sharn crying in the stable.  
  
I had climbed into the hayloft where we usually played, but when I lifted myself onto the boards, Sharn was splayed out all over the hay, bawling.  
  
I asked her what was wrong. She wouldn't answer me for several minutes, just kept on crying. I went on to try and comfort her, but my coaxing led to an increase in volume. I eventually gave up and just sat there, staring awkwardly at several spider webs dangling in lofty corners. Finally, Sharn came to a point where she could gurgle out words, so I crept close to her and paid attention.  
  
"Oh, Mari," she sobbed, "my parents are awful."  
  
I asked her why they were so awful. To me, I had never seen them be awful.  
  
Sharn choked. "Father has to go away. He has to go back to our country."  
  
I patted her on the back. Maybe that was awful. "It's alright," I said. "He'll always come back to see you." Then, I had thought naively. I didn't know then that things weren't simple.  
  
A fresh new wave of tears coursed down her cheeks. She sat up, hay sticking out of her tangled hair, eyes red from weeping. She couldn't look at me when she said what she said next.  
  
"Mari... My father's going back...and we have to go back, too. I'm sorry," she explained, as if she had to apologize, "but there's nothing else. We have to leave because my father's last relative died, and he must go back to take care of the matters. And I'm afraid, Mari. I'm afraid that we might not come back..."  
  
A ripple ran through Sharn, but she didn't cry anymore.  
  
I was at a loss - Sharn was going away! Had our friendship grown into a sisterhood, only to be broken up by matters of a dead relative and real estate? Was it that fragile? I had not known that we would ever be separated. All I thought was what we would do together when we had gotten older. But now our futures changed; our paths diverged as they forked away from each other at this turn point. My head spun with such thinking, so I steadied myself with my hands and stared at the individual straws. I didn't notice the warmth trickling out of my eyes, but Sharn did.  
  
Reaching out her arms, she pulled me towards her and hugged me tightly. I wrapped my arms around her back and cried openly into them.  
  
She said into my hair, "If I ever get a chance to, I'll make sure we see each other again."  
  
Those words coming from her mouth sounded strange. How could we not see each other again? But I answered, "Don't worry, Sharn. I'll save up lots of money so that you can come back here."  
  
"Me too!" she whispered fiercely.  
  
Just then, daylight peeked over the rooftops of Areeb. The sun was a quavering yoke, sliding over the edge of the horizon then breaking and spilling over the earth. The tangerine light that you only experience at dawn flooded the town and washed into the dining room at the Talgot Inn. It bounced off the crystal and glass, reflecting the facetted light onto my face whenever I moved. I turned the back of my head to face the sunlight, and I stared at my travel pack, resting against the oaken cabinet.  
  
Suddenly, I remembered what I had forgotten and quickly grabbed up my pack and dashed to my room. Once I had reached the quiet stillness of the house, in which the sun had not yet reached and the pale blue predawn darkness remained, I changed my run into a quiet lope. Tiptoeing up the stairs, pushing the door to my room open, I made my way to the bed stand where an ancient book lay. Holding up my bag and pushing the book off the table, I slipped it into my pack like a thief stealing jewels.  
  
Guilt made itself at home as I crept back to the inn. I knew my mother had specifically told me yesterday that this book meant everything to us, but I felt a tug within me that made me bring it along. I somehow knew that this would be important for later on, though I did not know for what.  
  
As I returned to the dining room, I found Mother had come back from the kitchen and was bringing in platters of toast and jam, pails of milk and butter. Also there was Hammond the messenger, quiet as usual yet sampling platters as they passed him by. When I appeared, he stood up and filled a cup with milk, drank it all in a gulp, and handed the used glass to Mother, who took it as she went back to the kitchen. Passing me, she tugged on my arm meaning for me to follow, and so I walked with her outside.  
  
"Marika, you are leaving today! I just thought to say goodbye to you," she kissed my forehead.  
  
"I know Mother." I hugged her. Then I went on, before she could say anything else. "And I will not forget my things or lose them and I will take care of myself, for the maids at the palace are not my mothers, and I will wash my things, clean my room, be on my best behavior, show respect and reverence to foreign customs, pay allegiance to the royal family, and I will absolutely not eat papas fruit for it gives me bad stomach." I looked at Mother. "And I will try to socialize."  
  
Mother smiled at me. "You have grown up, haven't you?" She pulled me in a tight squeeze. "My baby!"  
  
She released me, as my eyes were starting to pop out from asphyxiation. "Mother," I gasped. "I shall miss you."  
  
"And I also," she smiled.  
  
The door opened and Hammond walked out, observing us holding each other. Then he looked away and at a carriage in the road.  
  
"Whenever you are ready," he told me.  
  
I said my last goodbyes to Mother as I took up my pack and followed Hammond to the coach. I had noticed this before when I had walked outside with Mother, but I hadn't known it was for us, and thought it was for another guest in the inn. When I walked up to it, I saw the gleam of black paint and the crest of the Kyrrian royal family emblazoned on each door. Hammond walked up to on of the doors and pulled at a handle, letting me inside. The interior was just as luxurious, and as I sat down on one of the seats, I found them to be so cushioned that they were the most comfortable chairs I had ever sat in. I looked to Hammond just in time to see him shut the door and walk away, and I wondered if he was going back to Kyrria or not. When the driver flicked the whip and we started to trot away, I looked back through the windows (which were glass by the way) and saw Hammond leading his horse out from the stables. So he would be going back, yet not with me. He wanted to be there first to send the news to Queen Janelle. I saw him gallop past us and it was not until then did my homesickness begin.  
  
It remained a fact that I had never in my life been away from home and that this was my first time to Kyrria. I was nervous, and even a bit scared, but I reminded myself that somewhere at the end of the road, in a nice castle, was Sharn, and she was waiting for me. The thought comforted me and kept my wits about me.  
  
During the trip I slept on and off, as the constant clop of the horses' shoes on the high road lulled me to sleep. During my waking periods, I would stare out the window in fascination and breath out clouds onto the windowpanes. I would streak my finger through them and draw pictures, as I did not know how to write very well.  
  
But that became boring, too, so after that I would pull my pack closer to me and carefully draw out the fairy book. Whenever I touched it, my conscious seemed to get dirtier, but I had brought the book along and now there was no turning back, so mine as well use it.  
  
I lifted the creaking cover and opened to the first page. It showed a beautiful still picture of a waterfall. After gazing at it, I turned the page and again, a beautiful still was shown, this time of a wide canyon. I continued to flip the pages as if looking at a photo album, admiring them and drinking of their beauty. Finally, I turned to the last page where I read:  
  
The kingdom of Kyrria is monarchic country. Bordering on the north is  
the allying, monarchial country Ayortha. To the east is the Republic  
of Morgance, of neutral stance. And south lies the Living Sea and  
west lie the Western Wilds. The main exports of Kyrria are grains,  
fruits, and metal, and the main imports are wool and wood. Because  
most of the forests of Kyrria are occupied by the elves, its lumber  
industry is strictly limited, and thus wood normally is supplied  
through imports. Kyrria's gnome population, on the other hand,  
provide them with a booming industry in stone and metal. Kyrria's  
landscaping is beautiful and ethereal. The natural wonders of Kyrria  
have become a tourist destination, making this country a heaven on  
earth.  
  
I looked up from the book and closed my eyes, picturing the heavenly country in my head. The sparkling Living Sea on its shore, the orange sunshine dappling through its forests, the green papas fruit...no, the purple, exotic passion fruit; red, juicy apples...  
  
My stomach growled. It was nearing noon, and I hadn't a bite to eat since this morning's pear. I just got to wondering when the driver would stop when we pulled up in a small village.  
  
I hopped out immediately and when the driver came round to open my door and discovered I was already out, he shrugged with mild surprise and told me I could buy whatever I wanted with the money he gave me. Then he handed me three silver KEs. When he told me what they were called, I asked him why they were called this way.  
  
"The names of our currency change with the current ruler of Kyrria," he explained. "Each time the king changes, the face on the coins change, and so also the names. The current king is now King Edward. King Edward, KE. The preceding king was King Alexis. It was only recent that the name has changed from KA to KE. Sometimes it takes awhile for folks to get used to it. Well, off with you now. You have an hour to stretch your legs, but you have two more hours on the road. I suggest you use the outhouses if you can."  
  
So I followed my own bidding, keeping careful track of the time by watching the sun's path in the sky. I walked down to the market and bought a loaf of bread, a piece of cheese, and a bottle of milk. It was only after I had paid for everything that I truly realized the worth of six silver KEs. I had two silvers left and twenty-four bronzes and six coppers. I stared at the money in my palm. This was most likely the most money I would ever get to hold in my life.  
  
Pocketing them, I walked around to try and find a place to sit. Walking made the coins jingle in my pocket, and my street smarts told me this wasn't the safest way to be walking around. I broke off half of my bread and ate the inside out, then took my coins and placed them inside the shell of the crust. Pocketing this, with my pocket bulging out extremely, still didn't feel safe, but the obvious jingle had gone.  
  
I found a stoop where I could sit on and I finished my meal there. I ate ravenously, for bread and cheese had never tasted so good, and milk never so thirst-quenching. When I finished I tossed my head up to squint at the sun, and I found I had half an hour still to go. I walked around and looked for a tavern or an inn with an outhouse. I found a tavern, and when I had finished doing what I had to do, I reentered and sat around, biding my time.  
  
The table next to mine held two women, shady characters as my mother would put it. They were discussing something through the fog of smoke and dim light of candles. Seeing no harm in listening in, I discovered something very unnerving.  
  
"Gladys," said one woman to the other, "how do you know such things? How can you be certain that they're true?"  
  
"I know, Chloe, because I have my ways. I can see these things." She waved her arm, and a bunch of bangles and bracelets clinked together.  
  
"So you can see into the future?" the woman Chloe said.  
  
"Sometimes I can, but sometimes I see and think it's the future when it's actually happening now or happened a long time ago."  
  
There was a lull in their conversation. I picked up other traces of conversation around the bar, but not a word from theirs until after a while.  
  
"What do you see, then?" asked Chloe. "What do you see when you have these...visions?"  
  
A pause.  
  
"I see the royal family of Kyrria is in grave danger. Not only do they suffer from one danger, but many." Gladys took a deep breath. "I see the King in...in some sort of trouble. And...a dark man emerging from the palace...he's a traitor! A great war...a battle in the west...a gigantic black army! They come to kill, to seize Kyrria...build an empire... But wait. In the battle, amongst the black of heart and red of blood, there emerges a white bird. There is still hope..."  
  
I stand up and leave. I didn't want to hear any of this. It was just some fortune-teller's claim to fame. It wasn't true. I walked out into the sunlight and made my way to the carriage. If it was true, then I didn't want to be involved. I didn't want to know any of this.  
  
The driver handed me into the carriage and halfway up, my arm slipped. I tripped over the floor and the contents of my pocket spilled out onto the street. I scrambled out and quickly gathered the coins, collecting them in the bread bowl. Once I had them, I got back into the carriage, but before the driver could close the door, I told him to wait.  
  
"You wouldn't want these, would you?" I showed him the KEs.  
  
"No, miss. It's your money now. The Queen gave them to me for you."  
  
I stared at the money as the driver flicked the whip and we started off. Three silver KEs from Sharn! How rich could she be? How happy?  
  
Very happy, I decided. Being poor has its ups and downs, and when you receive more money when you are poor, you become happier. Maybe when you are rich, you are the happiest person in the world. 


	3. The People of Frell

Chapter Three ~ The People of Frell  
  
It was near three in the afternoon when we reached the capital city of Kyrria. I looked out the window and saw streets full of people below me, pedestrians surrounding all sides of the carriage carrying baskets on their way to the market. The slanting sunlight peeked between the sides of the towering buildings that must've been three stories high at least. The city bathed in the orange warmth, and I saw children eating ice cream and mothers wrestling their tots into control. Merchants were on every street, selling food, spices, jewels, beads, and trinkets that didn't actually do anything but tempt the children.  
  
I looked upon all this in wonder, and although I wanted to see Sharn, I felt like I wasn't ready to meet her just yet. To look at the state of my wrinkled clothes and sleepy face would convince anyone that I was someone other than the Queen's old friend. And I felt that I was in no mood to meet up with royalty at this hour.  
  
So I told the driver to stop. I opened the window and stuck my head out, calling for the driver's attention. After he reined over on the side of the road, I got out and walked over. I met him halfway there, and I realized he was going to open the door for me. That's the second time! But I covered it up like it was nothing.  
  
"Um...would it be alright if you dropped me off here? If it's okay with you that is..."  
  
The driver shrugged. "Wouldn't the Queen want to know where you are?"  
  
"Tell her I'm walking the rest of the way. I want to see the city." The driver turned around, but I stopped him. "Oh, and could you please tell me how to get to the castle from here?"  
  
He said, "Oh, the castle is still quite far away. Sixteen more blocks, and even then there are so many turns you take. Maybe it should be better if I pick you up in half an hour?"  
  
"Mm..." I thought. "Alright. So we meet back here in thirty minutes?"  
  
The driver confirmed it.  
  
"Okay." I reached into my pocket, drawing out a silver KE. "And here's your tip. For the ride."  
  
"No," he withdrew. "I cannot accept."  
  
So we left it at that. He cracked the whip and was gone to do some rounds across the city while I discovered, to my bubbling delight, the free urban lifestyle. I wandered the street, going up and down as far as I dared. I passed merchants selling a variety of items, each stall unlike the next. I passed a stall selling manuscripts and books while the neighboring stall sold "enchanted" frogs. I was entranced with the unique and diverse personalities. The drunken men that passed me as they headed home from the bar, the couples strolling together in the streets, the horses carrying riders young and old, the cooks wandering from food stall to food stall, competing for the ripest ingredient. I wondered at it all when something caught my eye.  
  
In a side street off to my left were more stalls, but there was one I saw carrying fairy-made trinkets. I walked on over and once there, found that not only were there fairy rugs and fairy teapots and fairy bugs, but there were also sculptures crafted by the legendary elven craftsman Agulen's students. I stared at them for a long time, and was saddened to find they were more than I could afford. Tearing myself away from s sprite resting on a dew-laden mushroom, I turned and saw something else.  
  
I hurried on over to the next street to find trinkets, dishes, and sculptures of angels. I am absolutely fascinated by the beauty of angels, even though belief in them has dwindled in some parts and considered mythological. But I love them none the less, and I absorbed myself with this stall even more than the other one. Then, leaving the stall, I hurried on over to the next one that caught my eye, and the next, until finally I was so tangled up within the city's streets that I ended up far away from my original starting point. I found myself in what looked to be a residential area, with flowers blooming on the old building windows. A block away lay the banks of a glistening turquoise river. Maybe this was the River Lucarno? I had no way to tell, but I did know I was hopelessly lost. By the look of the sky, it was around four already; the sun was steadily sliding towards the edge of the horizon and starting to smear the edge of the world with multiple colors. If I didn't find the palace before dark, who knows where I'd be?  
  
Walking down a lonely lane, I noticed two guys watching me. It's four in the afternoon and there's already creeps hanging out in the street? I must get used to city life. I hurried along and desperately looked around for a person friendly enough to give directions. But evidently I had reached the part of the city where there were few people. Highly dangerous area in my opinion, with no other people to serve as witnesses to help drive away angry mob-men. How funny, that thought. Angry mob-men targeting foreign tourists...  
  
A voice came up behind me. "Hello, miss."  
  
I pivoted around. The two creeps had followed me. This situation is not looking good.  
  
"Uh..." I said tactically.  
  
"Where are you going?" one asked. "We'll take you wherever you want to go."  
  
"Uh...no thanks..." I began to back uncertainly away.  
  
But one of the men tackled me to the ground before I could get away. I screamed. I screamed like never in my life before. But nobody came. A burlap bag was brought out and the man held me up so the other could swat it down my head. But I struggled. And I squirmed and wriggled, determined that if I had to go, I would go while making their lives as difficult as possible. It was impossible to get the bag over me as I curled into a ball and kicked out again, and I began to shriek once again.  
  
"HELP!" I bellowed. "SOMEBODY HEEEELLLP!!"  
  
The man holding me put up his hand on my mouth, to try to stifle my scream. I screamed harder, but when that didn't work very well, I curled back my lips viciously and sunk my teeth into man flesh. He yelped in pain and let me go to bend over his injured hand, which, when I turned around to look back, was bleeding.  
  
"You little bitch! If you come without a struggle then Queen Janelle won't get hurt!"  
  
I stopped, in horror. How could they know about my ties with the Queen? I was frozen, undecided on what to do, like a deer when it looks at the hunting lion, paralyzed. The crouched man straightened up to glare at me. I involuntarily stepped back, and I looked at the man holding the burlap sack. He raised it and slowly walked towards me, as if trying to catch a butterfly in a net, afraid to startle it off.  
  
But they were startled off when they heard the noisy sound of galloping hoof beats echoing multiple times over against the old buildings. They looked at each other and understood that the rider had heard my plea for help and was rushing to the scene. The men slipped away into the unseen shadows between the cracks of the buildings and I was left alone, in shock of what had happened. Nothing like this had ever happened in my life. I began to picture Frell in a new light.  
  
The rider had arrived, but I didn't look up. Only at the River Lucarno passing by in a slow but steady stream, with the boats floating up and down it, so close and yet so far to be able to see me on the bank.  
  
"Are you alright?" said the rider softly. Then, "Are you hurt?"  
  
I heard the rider dismount and the heels of the riding boots clapping on the stone-paved road. The boots uncertainly walked towards me, but all I could think of, while watching the boots, was the sheer uniform feel of it.  
  
"I'm okay," I answered. I looked up. "Thank-" There before my eyes, was the most handsome man I had seen in my life. "-you," I belatedly finished. His wispy blond hair fell well past his shoulders and his eyes were the palest blue I had ever seen. They were like a cloudless sky on a winter day, so crisp and faultless. He wore a uniform of some sort, but of what I could not tell.  
  
The man smiled. "Glad to help. Lately there have been some itchy people around..." he looked at me. "They target tourists. Allow me to escort you to your destination. Where are you going?"  
  
They target tourists, my ass. They knew who I was. Something wasn't right here. At all. But I may as well take up the kind offer from such a lovely gentlemen. He seemed so unlike those ragged kidnappers that I knew I could trust him.  
  
The blond-haired man looked me over again. "Wait," he said, "aren't you the Queen's friend from Ayortha?"  
  
"What?" I was so startled. How did the people of Frell know me on sight already? Had there been posters of me sticking up everywhere? I hadn't seen one. My obvious confusion led for the other man to chuckle.  
  
"Ah! I apologize. I have forgotten my manners. I am Arthur. Arthur of the Palace Guard." He caught my hand and bowed over it, kissing it courteously. I could have died.  
  
"Ah...I am Marika of Areeb..."  
  
"Yes, Queen Janelle has informed me so. Well, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Marika of Areeb. And on behalf of the Kyrrian court, welcome to Frell."  
  
"Thank you," I said.  
  
"I see that you have not arrived in the palace by the carriage. Why is this?"  
  
I quickly explained my situation to him.  
  
After hearing my story, which I had secretly spruced up a bit with more drama, he smiled sympathetically at me. "Oh, I see. Then I guess I must take you back to the palace myself."  
  
Yes!  
  
"Here, let me have your hand." I reached up to him and he pulled me up from the ground. For a moment I savored his being close to me - my heart beat faster than a race horse. Then he led me to his horse and lifted me up on it. I sat in the saddle while Arthur mounted up behind me and I was close to him once more - a bit too close, as his body was pressed up against mine to grasp the reins.  
  
We rode up to the palace in this fashion, with Arthur's arm securing me in the saddle so that I didn't topple over with each step of the trot. It wasn't very comfortable when you ride two people in a saddle, since you are bouncing all over the place and each time you land hard on the saddle only to be rebounded upwards again.  
  
After nearly ten minutes of riding, I began to see the palace turrets peaking over the rooftops and an occasional glimpse of a sliver of the castle between the cracks of buildings. I strained to see them, and my squirming made Arthur uncomfortable and he requested me to stop. So I hung there like a limp rag doll, uncertain of what to do with my limbs other then to squeeze my legs around the horse and pray that I didn't fall off.  
  
Finally, we turned a corner and the palace and its gardens spread out before us. Here, all other buildings ended and the road continued on, only this time it was paved with white marble stones and ran through the lawns and gardens and ended right up to the front palace doors. The castle was enormous. Rounded white turret after turret piled up on one another, and yet they retained the sense of balance and design. Up on the burgundy roofs alone, there seemed to be a city sprouting on top of its red shingles. Magnificent spires stretched out like fingers appealing to heaven, running through the clouds. And windows dotted the palace everywhere, glistening dewdrops in the sunlight.  
  
Arthur halted his horse to let me breathe in the beauty of the castle. It was like nothing I had ever dreamed in my life. Just like a castle from a fairy tale, its architecture astounded me. I sneaked a peek back at Arthur, and he was also in a daydream of his own, gazing at the structure before him, like remembering an old home. He saw me looking at him, and he smiled a bit.  
  
"Welcome," he announced, "to Sharelle Palace."  
  
He urged the horse forward, and we began our ride into the castle grounds. We moved as if in a dream. We passed gardeners and court officials; all knew Arthur, and they saluted him as he went by. There were different gardens of all sorts: some were small, others were big enough to include large fish ponds and exotic bird cages. There were rose gardens, water gardens, peach gardens, rock gardens. There were magical creature exhibits ranging from centaurs to ogres, to talking parrots and dancing monkeys. Once I thought I saw a unicorn peak between two jasmine bushes and I turned in my seat to look. But Arthur was still behind me, so all that I could see was over his shoulder, and by that time it had gone, and he pushed me back down again.  
  
Finally Arthur reined in the horse in front of the giant red oak doors and swung down. He spread his arms toward me and helped me down, too, and once again I felt the tension of the close proximity between us. Then he handed the reins to a stable groom who had come rushing our way and led the way towards the doors.  
  
They were HUGE. I mean, the doors. I craned my neck to look up at them and I almost fell down, so dizzying were their heights. Arthur strode up and knocked, making a hollow, booming sound. I stood a little ways behind him and waited, nervous about meeting Queen Janelle. Nervous about my state, which was worse than ever before. I fidgeted a bit but stopped when there came a cranking kind of sound as the doors were pushed open from the other side. As we walked through, I looked up again to see a sort of mechanism on top that would assist the pusher when opening. And as I turned my gaze downwards, I once again was blown away by the pure elegance of the interior design.  
  
I was standing on polished marble floors that were so clear they reflected yourself like mirrors would. A grand staircase curved down to meet the foyer; its banisters polished to a slippery gleam of mahogany. I pulled my head back and stared at the intricate, illuminated chandelier hanging several stories up, yet large enough to fill two floors. And on the ceiling past it were murals of winged beings and paintings of great mystical hunts. I spun around on my feet, gaping at everything in sight until Arthur interrupted.  
  
"I must leave you now. The adjutant will escort you to the Queen's chamber." He gestured to an older man waiting near the stairs. He looked a bit more stern than the other palace personnel I had met so far. I turned pleadingly to Arthur. "It has been nice to meet you," he said as a farewell. As my death parting. But he once again bent over my hand and kissed it, so I was more than willing to forgive him this time.  
  
But once he had gone, I was alone again except for two door guards and the adjutant.  
  
"The Queen has been waiting," he said stiffly. "This way, please."  
  
He led me up the stairs and I trailed behind. He walked so fast! After three flights which left me winded, he walked briskly down a corridor. I struggled to keep pace, but the man seemed determined to keep ahead. I barely had time anymore to notice how the columns lined the sides of the hall or the murals on the arched ceiling or the paintings and tapestries and suits of armor decorating what space there was. I barely had time to keep track of where we were going, so I could find my way back in the end. We went through a long corridor, up a flight of narrow stairs on the side, left in a hallway full of doors, right, then another right, until I got too tired trying to keep up to follow.  
  
I leaned against a wall for a second and breathed hard. I was never going to own a big house.  
  
When I looked up again, the hallway was empty. My heart began to pound hard. Oh no! What if I had lost the adjutant?! I scrambled towards a corner and peered around it, but that hallway was deserted, too. Ack! I was lost!  
  
I ran back and forth, uncertainly. If someone would have seen me now, they would think I was an idiot. But if someone would have seen me, I would have seen them, and I could ask for directions.  
  
Then, as I passed a door I heard voices on the other side. I stopped and listened closer. If I could ask knock and ask for directions, then I could get out of the mess that I was in now. But first I must listen to see if their conversation was important, or shouldn't be interrupted. How embarrassing if I was to walk in on something like a proposal! But as I listened, it seemed less and less like a proposal. And the more I listened, the more nervous I was on knocking, because I had become frozen at what I was hearing.  
  
"So when do we start?"  
  
"We've collected all the weapons. The sooner we do this, the better."  
  
"I understand. Now we just wait for a good chance."  
  
"Good," said the second voice, which had become louder, closer. "Then I will -"  
  
The door swung as it was pushed from the other side, and I was caught with it on my head. "Ow!" I cried.  
  
"Who's there?!" said the voice, and a head appeared from around the door to see who he had hit.  
  
My head was screaming in hard pain, but I managed to look up with squinted determination. What I saw in front of me threw me back. His face was young - almost as old as I was and yet he possessed the air of a grown man in charge. His features expressed surprise - his startled eyes, the gaping mouth. He had slightly long, black hair, which was like that only because it looked as if it hadn't been cut for a while. But the thing that surprised me most was the guard's uniform he wore. This was probably the reason why he looked so commanding to begin with. Then his face softened so the traces of a smile could be seen forming near the corner of his lips.  
  
"Marika of Areeb?"  
  
I stared at him. "Y-yes. I lost the adjutant. Could you please tell me where the Queen's room is?"  
  
The boy raised a finger, pointing off in a direction behind me. His hand looked surprisingly large for his body.  
  
"Turn left, take the stairs, and her room is around the corner."  
  
"Thank you!"  
  
He smiled. "No problem! Take care."  
  
I returned his smile and ran off to follow his directions before I forgot them. I didn't know, but that boy was...well...I can't explain it. Maybe we just hit it off right from the start, but I'm getting ahead of myself.  
  
Then I stopped, bewildered.  
  
"Wait," I asked myself. "How did he know my name?"  
  
=+++=  
  
"Grey, do you think she overheard us?"  
  
The black-haired boy turned from the door as it shut with a click. "Not likely! Even if she did, she wouldn't understand."  
  
He thought quietly to himself. 'But she got to the palace safely, which means...' he looked to the other guard, 'they failed...' 


	4. A Queen's Troubles

Chapter Four ~ A Queen's Troubles  
  
"Where were you?! I was looking all over for you!"  
  
The adjutant made his way down the hall towards me, almost on the border of franticness. I suddenly felt guilty. I must have really worried him, when he raised his hand to knock on her door and then turned and discovered that I was nowhere.  
  
"Sorry," I apologized lamely.  
  
I followed him back to a large white door with golden decorations carved into it. This has to be the Queen's chamber! I positioned myself accordingly in front of the door and did my best to straighten myself out. My heart beat ten times quicker and I fidgeted more than ever. Sharn was behind this door!  
  
The adjutant cleared his throat elaborately and rapped smartly three times on the door.  
  
"My queen!" he announced. "The guest from Ayortha is here!"  
  
The door began to open, and I was about ready to jump on the girl when she appeared.  
  
"Sha-"  
  
I was stopped in mid-word as a hairy beast bounded toward me and pushed me over. Next thing I knew I was on the floor, being harassed by a large dog growling close to my face. Its face was menacing, and I could smell the canine saliva dripping from its tongue. Ugh! Dogs are okay, but not when they're breathing in your face!  
  
"Rogreen! Stop it, Rogreen! Let her go now!"  
  
The dog grudgingly got off of me and stood away back, still content to growl.  
  
"I'm sorry! He's always like this to strangers!"  
  
I picked myself up and turned to look at the door. Standing inside, with the sinking sun's light haloing her golden hair, was Sharn, or rather, Queen Janelle. She was dressed in a simple day gown - nothing elaborate, yet it cleverly emphasized her looks rather than her clothes. It suited her well.  
  
"Sharn..."  
  
"Mari!"  
  
We fell to a tight embrace, which felt awkward at first, but once I melted into my friend's arms, it felt as natural as rain.  
  
"I missed you so much!" I squealed delightedly.  
  
"Ah!"  
  
"Step back," I said. "Let's see your face."  
  
She pulled back and I saw her. Her blond curls, her blue eyes, they all showed her Kyrrian lineage. She indeed looked like royalty in itself. Sharn smiled goofily. I hugged her again.  
  
"Ah! You haven't changed at all! Perhaps a bit older, but you're still the same Sharn, even though you're queen now."  
  
I was led into the room with a maid trailing behind me, carrying a tray of tea. Her room was enormous. Our whole house was as large as the bedroom Sharn now slept in. I never stopped turning around and looking, so luxurious was her room. The maid behind me thought it was hard enough trying to carry the tea tray without me twirling in front of her, so she made discreet gestures for me to get going or get out of the way. I got out of the way so I could return to admiring the richly furnished room I saw in front of me. When the tea was all set out, I returned to Sharn, who was watching me, amused, from her cushioned red chair.  
  
"Come, have a seat Mari. I dare say you've had a taste of Frell's exquisite tea." She grinned as she poured me a cup.  
  
"Sharn! You're even talking like a queen now!"  
  
She chuckled. "Yeah, well it kinda rubs off on you, the palace talk." She handed me the cup, and I graciously accepted.  
  
"So how are your parents doing? Are they well?"  
  
"Oh yes. Quite fine actually. They wouldn't believe me when I told them I had fallen in love with a prince. He was only a prince then. But when we married a year later...I guess now they don't quite mind, living in the palace!"  
  
"Of course! It's so beautiful here!" I looked around breathlessly. Then I said, a bit more quietly, "I can't believe it! You're a queen now!"  
  
Sharn blushed a bit. "It was only a coincidence that the person I fell in love with was a prince..."  
  
"Yeah, you were really lucky," I said. To tell you the truth, I was a bit jealous. As much as I tried not to be, I just couldn't help it. I grinned as best I could.  
  
But Sharn didn't seem to notice and she went on. "I met Edward in town!" she sighed. "And it was love at first sight!" She giggled like a little girl.  
  
I nodded and smiled, keeping the jealously within me. Why couldn't I be like her? Why wasn't I good enough? Inside, I felt so lonely. I was craving for someone to love me. But no! I got mad at myself. How can you think such things?! You finally meet Sharn, at last, and next you get jealous! The nerve of me.  
  
"He's very nice, but his family..." Sharn worried. "Even my parents were against it..."  
  
What? Cinderella doesn't have a happily ever after? I listened more attentively.  
  
"But the biggest problem is Edward's mother... In other words, my mother- in-law is really against this marriage, since I'm not of noble blood."  
  
Boy, mother-in-laws everywhere were the same.  
  
"She is Edward's second mother, coming from a Morgench aristocratic family, so she's very fanatic about social class differences. Not to mention her daughter, who is also my responsibility now... She's just like her mother."  
  
"Oh, so there's a daughter," I thought aloud. I raised the teacup to my lips.  
  
"One daughter and two sons," Sharn corrected.  
  
I nearly fell out of my chair in surprise. Three in-laws! It's not easy being Cinderella!  
  
Sharn put her tea down and stood up, walking around her bedroom, looking around with a bit of sadness in her eyes. No! It couldn't be sadness. Queens are never sad - they have so much money and people worshipping them. How can they be sad?  
  
Sharn stared at a rug spread across the floor in front of her bed.  
  
"But..." she whispered, "sometimes...scary things...happen around here." She gulped, fighting to keep composure. "Maybe," she said, quietest of all, "it's a mistake I became queen."  
  
I got up and walked uncertainly over to Jane. "Sharn?"  
  
Suddenly she whirled around and grabbed my shoulders, desperately, with a hint of wildness in her eyes.  
  
"Listen, Mari...!"  
  
I stared into her eyes, bewildered. This was definitely not a Jane I knew. She had changed perhaps this much while we last saw each other - she had taken up the burdens of an adult.  
  
She began to speak; I heard her draw in breath to do so, but in that instant, a knock came at the door. It came so suddenly that Jane jumped away from me and looked fearfully at the door. I looked, too, but I couldn't help the feelings of disappointment take over. She was about to tell me something important - I knew it - but she had been stopped short. Now I was dying to know what she would have told me, and I glanced for an instant in Jane's direction, where she was walking up to the door to answer it. If only the knocker could have paused for just a few seconds! Oh, how I hated cliffhangers!  
  
It was the maid who had arrived. She stood in the doorway, looking over in my direction, curiously. Then she turned back to the Queen.  
  
"Excuse me, Your Majesty. You must get ready for the dinner reception..."  
  
Jane shuddered a sigh of relief. "Oh, is it time already?" She turned in my direction. "Marika, you will come, too? I can introduce you to my family."  
  
I barely noticed the formality of her tone. "Alright," I said quietly.  
  
"This way," said the maid. "I'll show you to your room."  
  
I picked up my pack again and followed her downstairs. Then she turned into a corridor and led me to a door. Once I thought about it, I realized that Sharn's room would be directly above me. I tossed my head upwards and stared, while the maid looked at me like I was an idiot. No, she didn't really notice. I just have a strange hobby of pretending people think I'm stupid when they don't.  
  
Once the maid had finished fumbling with her keys and had jammed the fitting key into place, the door swung open and I found myself in a stunning guest room. Of course, the furnishings weren't nearly as great as the queen's room, but this room was designed to hold royal guests, even princes from a far away land would stay here. And I felt honored in that sort of thought, at the very least. At least they didn't give me some KEs and shove me inside a stuffy inn with the crotchety folk. Well, I guess there's nothing wrong with that, considering where I'm from, but I felt honored since I hadn't a trace of noble blood besides the Lady who Sits like a Commoner's. And that doesn't really count.  
  
The maid stayed by the door as I immersed myself in the room. I used to be the "interior decorator" and maid service for our inn back home, so of course I was interested in the layout and design of the room. In fact, the maid thought me quite dull to watch, so she ended up leaving.  
  
"This is your room," she said. "Your bed is further on past the curtains."  
  
Whoa! This room is so big, you had to find the bed!  
  
I walked up to each piece of furniture, each piece of decoration, admiring its workmanship. Fruits were laid in a glass bowl on top of a gold-trimmed stand with a gold-framed mirror behind it. My bed's canopy and sheets had gold tassels dangling off the sides while they themselves had scarlet designs running up them. The walls were painted gold. Basically, you were overwhelmed in gold.  
  
There was a vase of large, exotic flowers on the floor, for that was how large the flowers were. And there were maps and paintings and tapestries laid out all around the room, and I went up to each one and ran my hand through the fabric, ran my eyes through the color, even though I wasn't supposed to. There was a balcony which looked out onto another wing of the castle, and I walked out into the fresh air and savored the nice breeze coming in from the west. The sun was setting fast, and I watched it dip below the horizon, setting the sky aflame. Soon the dinner reception would start, and I would need to get ready.  
  
But I put it off for a little while longer. I could get ready in a minute if I had to. Flinging my pack onto the bed and flopping on the mattress after it, I drew out the magic book and lay it out in front of me. I stared at the cover for a few seconds - it was a beat up thing, with worn corners and white edges, but it remained elegant in a sense that it retained its original cover design. A rune, a symbol, was painted in flecked gold in the center, and a blackish-greenish paint formed a filled in circle around it and it and tentacles reaching out from the center, stretching all the way to the spine. For a moment I looked at the book, contemplating its design. I don't know, because right now, I feel like contemplating on everything's figure and shape. It's just the mood I'm in right now. Perhaps someday you'll meet me in a bad mood and I toss out various things at you with no contemplated thought. We'll see.  
  
I opened the book with a creak and found a convenient little family tree on the lineage of the royal family. I felt it little voice in my head go, 'Memorize that! Now!!'  
  
"Okay, so Queen Catherine was King Edward's mother. When Catherine died, King Alexis remarried to Queen Rosamund, who had Prince Luke, Princess Vivian, and Prince Sharell. Then Alexis died."  
  
Wow! So confusing! And Sharn really has an evil stepmother-in-law with three other step-in-laws. How unfortunate!  
  
A hasty knock sounded at the door. I got up and checked the clock in my room. A quarter to seven. Dinner started at seven, so I would have to think about getting ready after answering the door. When I opened it, an older looking maid of some sort was standing in the hallway. She didn't even say anything. She just took one look at me, then swept in uninvited, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me off to the bathroom.  
  
"H-hey!" I protested.  
  
To my horror, she began tossing off my worn clothing and pushed me naked into the bathroom. Trying to cover myself up with a towel, she walked in and bent over a large tub, one that I hadn't previously seen before when I walked into my room. A minute later, when she drew back, she was pocketing something and looking satisfied at the tub of water, which was suddenly filled and steaming. I blinked. This couldn't be magic. Magic was very rare in humans. Then I looked at the old maid again and slid my eyes downward, to her feet. Drat! Covered by a long skirt.  
  
"Come, now, child. Into the tub. Oh, for the fairies' sake! I know what the female body looks like, thank you. Now if you had gotten ready earlier in the first place, then I wouldn't have been sent up here to dress you up properly. There you go! That's it, nice and easy into the water. See, that's not so bad is it?" the woman kept talking like this, whether it was to me or to herself, she kept at it.  
  
When I slid into the tub, I was surprised to find that the water was the right temperature. Hot, but not scalding. The woman began to pour various herbal substances into the water, and it began to stink the place up, though it was a good smell. She began to attack my hair viciously with soap and a comb, running through the knots and messaging it straight. She took a sponge and scrubbed my body out with some more soap, and whenever she ran into a dirt spot that had crusted over, she would murder it with her scouring and leave a tender red spot on my skin.  
  
At first I struggled a bit, uncomfortable with having another person wash my body. But she only reprimanded me fiercely and held me down to keep me from splashing soap suds everywhere. In the end I succumbed, and by the time I had gotten out of the tub and dried off, I was as docile as a doe.  
  
When I was in my new underclothes, which were, by the way, silk, and which made me feel chillier, I asked the woman, "Who are you? At first I thought you were a maid, but then again, a maid wouldn't push around a queen's guest, not that I'm trying to sound high up there, but..."  
  
The woman only laughed. The upper half of her body was rummaging through a wardrobe, so I couldn't see what was happening in there.  
  
"I am simply Mandy; just an old cook. Now, which one would you prefer, this red one, or the green one with the flowers? I think both would go nicely with your black hair. It all depends on whether you favor the warmer look or the cooler one."  
  
She held up two Kyrrian dresses. I stared blankly at them, truly wishing to wear none of them. I frowned and asked, "Mightn't you have anything else...?"  
  
Mandy studied me, and I felt she was boring into my mind.  
  
"Well," she said at last. "I might have this one..."  
  
She turned around and put the two dresses back. Taking out another one, she held it in front of me.  
  
"It's a bit simple, but I have a feeling you might take a fancy to it."  
  
Simple, maybe, for an Ayorthaian formal garment. This was, indeed, more elaborate than the Kyrrian dresses Mandy had shown me earlier. It was beautiful. It was traditional. I liked it.  
  
I nodded happily to Mandy the cook, and she flung the dress over me and fitted me into it. To my utter surprise, it fit perfectly. When she had fastened everything into place, I turned to her and started, "Are you a - never mind." I frowned at the floor, a bit embaraced at myself. Perhaps I should ask Sharn about it later.  
  
Mandy twirled me around and looked at me with a beaming smile. "Oh, Marika, you look simply breathtaking!"  
  
Breathtaking? Jane was breathtaking. Me? Never in a lifetime. I strode over to the mirror on the other side of the room, the large one with a golden frame. As I walked closer, my face seemed to distort a bit, and then when I was right up close to it, I saw that it wasn't my face I was looking at.  
  
I screamed in fright. Within the glass world of the mirror I was looking at was a chalk white face. It was the face of a dead man. 


	5. The Reception Ball

Chapter Five ~ The Dinner Reception  
  
Mandy rushed forward to support me as I stumbled over backwards, tripping over my long skirts. I was jabbering nonsense, pointing fearfully towards the mirror. The face I had seen before - the eerie hollow face of the dead man - had evidently vanished. Mandy was peering behind the mirror, tapping it on the glass, searching for a crack. But either it had just been my imagination or the ghost had evaporated before Mandy could see it. In other words, when Mandy turned back to me, she looked worried.  
  
"Dear, are you feeling alright?" she asked me concernedly.  
  
"Bakthu," I swore in Ayorthaian, thinking she wouldn't understand me. But Mandy obviously could, and she smiled back at me secretively.  
  
"Alright, we have to rush you, now. Five minutes until the reception! And I'm taking a good bet that it's because of you that they're holding it! So you mustn't be late!"  
  
She pushed me towards the door, but I was already running...or shuffling if you may. The tight shoes that bound my feet weren't exactly my choice mode of transportation, and I hobbled along as quickly as they allowed. I slid out the door and into the hallway, not exactly what you would call a ladylike entrance, and I hastily made my way to the ballroom.  
  
The room was nearly full when I entered. Already people were forming into couples, and I was a bit put down to know that I didn't have a partner. Yet, I hoped. I could see Arthur a few feet away, and he caught my eye and smiled. I blushed back at him and turned to face the front of the room. I could see Sharn with her husband by her side (it feels so weird, saying husband) and also another woman, middle-aged by the looks of her. This was perhaps the scary stepmother-in-law that I had been hearing about. Eeps. Better stay away from the woman.  
  
Suddenly a trumpet from the orchestra blared out across the room, blasting three times as the whole room went quiet. A herald announced my name to the court, and I felt butterflies mount in my stomach.  
  
"Welcome to the Queen's guest from Ayortha! Great-granddaughter of the Honorable Lady Areida, lady of the legendary Queen Eleanor and King Charmont!"  
  
The room went stock still as I walked up to the thrones. Although my dress hid it, my legs were undoubtedly shaking, and I was aware of the many eyes that were on me. The ascent to the top of the room seemed to take me forever, and when I finally reached the thrones, Sharn gave me a quick smile of reassurance.  
  
"Thank you for your invitation," I addressed to all. "I am Marika of Areeb."  
  
There was a silence, a cough, then Sharn nudged Edward beside her.  
  
"Ah!" he said. He looked over at Sharn lovingly and smiled, then he said to me, "Yes. A friend of Jane's is also a friend of mine." He grinned, then whispered, "Jane forced me to practice." Jane gently kicked him.  
  
Thank the fairies, he seems like a nice guy.  
  
"My mother, Queen Rosamund," he gestured to his stepmother.  
  
Ahh! Rosamund the evil stepmother-in-law! I cowered inwardly.  
  
Rosamund looked at me coolly and studied my garment. She seemed a bit displeased at my choice of clothing.  
  
"Enjoy your stay," she said tonelessly, loudly. It felt so staged. And it felt she meant more like, 'Don't stay too long,' or something.  
  
Edward sat considering me for a moment, then he grinned. "Where's Luke?" he asked Rosamund.  
  
Rosamund turned her head. "He said he would be late," she said disdainfully. "You know that he doesn't really like dinner receptions." Then she added, "Besides, lately there have been too many strangers coming in and out of the palace..."  
  
"Mother!" Edward gasped.  
  
Sharn apologized. "Sorry. Have patience, Mari..."  
  
"I understand. Don't worry!" I brushed it off like it was nothing. But I was steadily growing to dislike that queen more and more, and my impression of her was steadily sliding downhill.  
  
Suddenly, the doors closest to the thrones swung open and in walked an overly pretty girl. It looked as if she had prepared for the ball five hours beforehand. Her gown was perhaps the most elaborate out of all the ballroom dresses in the room, and her expression was that of haughtiness and power. She threw a look at me, and I saw the traces of a slight frown crease through her makeup.  
  
"Vivian!" called out Rosamund.  
  
But Princess Vivian ignored her mother and swept toward the center of the ballroom, one hand carrying her big skirt while the other was raised in an open invitation.  
  
"Music!" she shouted. "Now who wants to dance with me first?"  
  
I balled up my fists and clenched my teeth. No one wanted to speak to a commoner like me! Was this how the aristocrats are? I mentally sent a fury of rage to attack the princess. What annoyed me most was that she was pretty despite her character on the inside. Perhaps what fueled the anger was that she was probably prettier even then Sharn.  
  
I felt someone tap me on the back, and I spun around, ready to verbally defend myself. But I found myself looking down to a small boy, perhaps about seven years of age. It looked amusing, to see a child wearing a formal suit in the fashion of all the other men in the room.  
  
"Excuse me," he said. "Why are your clothes different? Where are they from?"  
  
"Sharell! What are you doing?! Come here!" an angry voice choked out from behind.  
  
Ooh, so this is Prince Sharell.  
  
Prince Sharell bowed over my hand and kissed it.  
  
"Good evening, Miss Mari. Come and dance with me."  
  
"Sharell!"  
  
Queen Rosamund stormed down on the little Sharell and whisked him away from me. Despite the queen's rudeness, I thought the little prince was cute. How could such a nice little boy grow up from an arrogant family?  
  
I wistfully watched the people dancing on the floor as the orchestra whittled away. I felt more like a wall decoration, viewing the dancing as if from a window. Suddenly I saw Arthur waltz past with Princess Vivian in his grasp. Ah - He caught me looking at him and he gave me a wink. Oh, Arthur...  
  
Suddenly, Vivian stopped. "Watch where you're looking, Arthur!" she snapped. Grabbing his hand, she placed it back on her waist and she steered him away from me.  
  
Gah. This was hopeless. I might as well head for the banquet hall and choose a seat before the rest were taken up by the others. I felt so much like an extra wheel. I turned to leave.  
  
"Why aren't you dancing?" The question came up suddenly from a voice behind me.  
  
I didn't move. Now I was facing ridicule - great. I tried to think of the most smart-alecky comment to respond. But my tongue wouldn't move.  
  
"C-because no one asked me to?"  
  
A hand grabbed my wrist and dragged me on to the dance floor.  
  
"Then dance with me!"  
  
I stumbled along backwards after him. W-wait a minute! What's going on?! I tried to twist around to regain some footing, but he was going too fast and I kept tripping over my skirt.  
  
Then he came to a stop and spun me around, so I ended up facing him, locked within each other's arms. I gawked at him like my eyes were glued onto his face. He was beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. My heart quickened several paces. His hand tightened the hold on my waist. Oh...the...fairies...  
  
Blond curls fell into his brown eyes, the softest brown you could find in the kingdom. They held mine like a magnet, though gently, and I was lost and drowning, drinking deep from the chocolate irises. I gulped involuntarily. He was holding me so close, so that his chest was against mine. Only couples were that close. I brought my hand down to try to soften the tight grip he had on my waist, but as I rested it down on top of his hand, he only pulled me closer. Ack... But he did have nice hands; nice, big-boned hands that were so wide...and they held my hand and waist, they connected me with him.  
  
I melted to his touch and felt the electricity run through his fingers. I was drawn to him, and he was drawn to me, and we danced on and on until the trumpets blasted thrice, signifying dinner was about to begin. By then, I was near exhausted by dancing and had worked up a huge appetite. The people on the dance floor began to shuffle along together, all bumping into each other to fit within the narrow doors. In the process, the mystery man and I became separated. But he quickly leaned out and took my sweating palm, so he caught up with me and stayed by my side. During all of this I was blushing furiously, and I sort of longed for the peace and quiet of my room, where I could recuperate my wits. But the boy looked at me so...ah...fondly, that I couldn't just leave. And plus, I had never in my life had so much attention from a boy. How could I back out now?  
  
He led me into the banquet hall, which was quickly becoming filled up again. I spotted Arthur and Vivian again, but this time, somehow, I felt less grieved by seeing Arthur with the brat. It bothered me less, and when I saw Arthur turn to wave at me I saw his jaw drop then shut. Then he smiled less enthusiastically and looked at Vivian. Ha! He's jealous.  
  
We sat a couple of seats away from Edward and Jane. The king looked at me and grinned, then turned to Sharn and whispered something to her. She leaned back and smiled like a little girl.  
  
The boy - who was he? - pulled out a chair for me just as I sat in another. He looked blankly at me then laughed, and went to sit in the chair he had pulled.  
  
By then the room had nearly filled, and a chancellor began to make a speech. A long, boring speech that had no relation to anything whatsoever. I began to get bored. The eyelids of the others began to droop, and some slouched in their seats. I stifled a yawn.  
  
"Although this is the first time we met, I know all about you," came a whisper from my right. The boy's breath felt warm on my neck and blew stray wisps of hair.  
  
I turned and found his face was near mine, and I leaned back a bit, uncomfortable. He also gave me a bit more room to breathe, and I gratefully accepted the precious space.  
  
"What are you talking about?" I whispered back.  
  
"I heard a lot from Jane," he quietly answered. "About her closest friend."  
  
I drew in breath. "How do you know Jane?" I asked.  
  
Suddenly the speech was over and everybody started talking again. I couldn't here his reply.  
  
"What?"  
  
He spoke again, but then shook his head and smiled, like retaining a secret from me.  
  
Dinner went as expected, with the boy telling me of Kyrrian customs and what was expected of me in the palace.  
  
"When you leave the table, you must fold your napkin in a way of thanks. If you leave your napkin in a heap on the table, then it is either a show of disrespect or that the food had been terrible."  
  
"In Ayortha, we don't really care about napkins, but the nobility make a big fuss with the silverware; if you are still eating and merely pausing in your food, you cross your fork and knife on the plate so the servants wouldn't take it away."  
  
"Well in Kyrria, you mustn't put your elbows on the table while eating," he said with a smile.  
  
I promptly took my arms off the table. "And we have that custom in Ayortha, too," I said quickly.  
  
"And in Kyrria, if a boy meets a girl he likes, he must first kiss her hand," he lifted my hand and quickly kissed it, "and the usual proceedings may take place."  
  
The usual proceedings?! A girl he likes?! Is he...flirting with me? Agh! I didn't know how.  
  
"Well in Ayortha, the boy has to introduce himself," I said roughly.  
  
He smiled crookedly. "I'd rather you find out on your own. I think it's better if you don't know now."  
  
"What?!" I yelled, frustrated.  
  
"You know in Ayortha," he said, changing the subject, "that they have beautiful voices." He looked at me. "Can you sing?"  
  
"Of course," I snapped. I wasn't really annoyed. I just didn't know how to respond to a boy in this situation. I was at my racking nerves' end just because of nervousness.  
  
"Sing, then," he asked. "Sing one of your songs."  
  
I looked at him uncertainly, but he seemed to truthfully want to hear me. So I sang the first song that came to mind.  
  
"A voice from the past, joining yours and mine. Adding up the layers of harmony. And so it goes, on and on. Melodies of life, To the sky beyond the flying birds - forever and beyond."  
  
There was a pause. The room had gone slightly quieter, and I discovered to my rising red face that half the room had been listening. A scattered applause was taken up by Edward and Jane, and a few others joined in for Their Majesties' sake.  
  
"That's not all, is it?" asked the boy, and I frowned at him.  
  
"No, it's not. But why would you want to hear more?"  
  
"Because I like it. Now sing." He outstretched his arms exaggeratedly.  
  
I clenched my mouth together, then opened again.  
  
"So far and away, see the bird as it flies by. Gliding through the shadows of the clouds up in the sky. I've laid my memories and dreams upon those wings. Leave them now and see what tomorrow brings."  
  
This time, the room was almost silent.  
  
"Wow," said the boy. "That was...beautiful..."  
  
"I didn't make it up. It's just a song."  
  
"But the way you delivered it... It really felt like you were speaking..."  
  
"It's just a song," I repeated. But I felt my face grow hot with the increasing compliments. Back in Ayortha, this was considered a mediocre performance.  
  
The rest of the night, I ended up standing up in front of the table and singing various songs that came to mind, and the people clapped as they ate. I had somehow been upgraded from being the third wheel to an entertaining fool. I was sure they were secretly snorting into their sauce, shaking their heads at how unbearably penetrating my voice was. But maybe it was just my pessimistic, empty-glass side.  
  
Once dinner was over, the boy had darted back to my side and was now escorting me out with the rest. There was an optional ball to attend after the meal, but most were heading back upstairs for bed.  
  
He twirled me around and said to me, "So what's up? Are you ready for the second round?"  
  
So we danced further into the night, this time having more room to slide and twirl, since half the people had gone. Once again, I found myself pressed up close to his chest and my heart, which had been pounding all evening, just about gave out as it tripled its pace.  
  
After a half an hour or so of dancing, an older man had walked up behind the boy and touched his shoulder.  
  
"Prince Luke..." he interrupted.  
  
The boy turned around, then looked away, scowling.  
  
"What is it? You're being rude, General Dubell."  
  
"But the Queen would like to speak with you..."  
  
Abruptly the boy turned away and led me by the shoulder, walking away from the General. He led me to the door.  
  
"Forgive me for the intrusion... My mother wants me. I'll take you back to your room."  
  
"Prince!" the General called back, but Luke was ignoring him.  
  
I turned around quickly and looked back.  
  
"W-what about him?" I asked.  
  
Luke's frown got deeper. "Let him be."  
  
We walked in silence for a while, down an empty corridor, up a couple flights. I noticed that Luke was taking me back by the longest route possible, for I had never seen some of the hallways and stairs.  
  
I thought back to the ball, and my heart did a flip. I had been dancing with a prince! I am with a prince! I had been acting like a fool! I am a fool! I nervously glanced in Luke's direction, then looked back at my feet. He's the King's brother...half-brother if you may, but still... I was so ashamed of myself. Now it seemed so obvious that Luke was a prince. I mentally whooped myself.  
  
Luke stopped and turned around. His frown had softened when he looked at me.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked.  
  
"Oh...nothing...I just didn't know you were a...a prince," I mumbled.  
  
He grinned. "Just call me Luke," he said.  
  
Oh...he wanted me to call him Luke...? Was I to get friendly with a prince? "Kay," I responded simply.  
  
He looked me over again.  
  
"It's true that you're Jane's friend, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh. You don't look as old as her."  
  
I got defensive. "That's because I'm one year younger. But I don't look that young."  
  
He stood back and rubbed his chin.  
  
"One year? So you're fifteen, right?"  
  
I raised my eyebrow. Duh...  
  
He started to giggle. Then he erupted into laughter.  
  
"Ah, so it's true! I've heard that Ayorthaian people look young for their age!"  
  
Hey, suddenly it's National Children's Day!  
  
My face grew boiling hot, as if I were steaming out of my ears. At first Luke noticed this and stopped laughing uncertainly. I was so red, I looked like I would blow up. But time wore on, and I looked away, embaraced. It didn't take long for him to realize I had actually been blushing. The worst blushing session I've had in my life, mind you, and even then at first I didn't know what was wrong with me. I quickly remedied the beet redness by burying my eyes on the tapestries we passed, depicting swordsmen and knights decapitating ogres and dragons.  
  
Alas, we reached the guest room. My room, I guess. As I laid my hand on the door handle I turned to look at Luke. I don't know what I was expecting, because I just stood there, on the verge of opening my door and collapsing into the long-awaited bed of sweet rest. But there was an unseen barrier deterring me from that sleep savior and reprimanded me to give the prince a thank-you, or at least a good-night farewell. But no words came out of my mouth.  
  
"Marika," he said at last. "May I call you Mari? Jane does it all the time, so maybe I should call you that, too... Marika's too formal, but anyways." He stepped closer hesitantly, as if he had been debating within himself to do so while talking. "Good night, Mari. I had a wonderful time."  
  
His voice had picked up a serious tone. I was by the door, blinking with sleep and surprise.  
  
"I had a wonderful time, too," I exhaled.  
  
The corners of his lips pulled upwards twice, a halting smile. Then to my utmost astonishment and horror, they drew nearer, centering in on their target: my mouth.  
  
Within two seconds of my life, my brain fought its most fiercest civil battle yet. One side was dubbed the "frou-frou" side, and all it wanted was for me to received that lovely lip slop and melt into any desire that drove me. Another held it in check, my "drill sergeant" side. This side demanded that I slap him on the face, real hard, and then go to bed. It ended up with a draw.  
  
In the last possible millisecond, I flipped up my palm in front of my face, possibly to slap him. But the other side kept it in check by leaving it stationary, otherwise shielding my mouth. I felt hot breath on my palm as a mouth came up to press against my hand. Oh, it would have been a nice kiss, I lamented posthumously.  
  
"Wait a minute!" I said. Luke had drawn back his head and was looking at me with a very puzzled expression. "Eh...we don't have this custom in Ayortha," I grinned frantically. "Sorry!"  
  
I had been backed up against the door. Now I opened it from behind and stepped backwards, slamming the door to block entrance to my silent room.  
  
Eh...not the most graceful way to part with a prince. "Goodnight!" I called back lamely.  
  
Through the door I heard his laughter. Okay, well at least he wasn't mad or anything.  
  
I slipped out of my dress and slithered into my nightclothes. Then I slumped into bed and brought the sheets above my head, muffling my screams of mortification.  
  
=+++=  
  
A/N: Credits for the song Marika sings, Melodies of Life, from Final Fantasy IX. It quite fits, don't you think :) ? 


	6. NOTE! No way I will abandon it! it's jus...

Hey everyone.  
  
Sorry to disappoint, but I won't continue this story under this name.  
  
...And you guys want to know why?  
  
In short, I didn't want to remove this story for now, so I'm leaving it up. Until I find some time to start it again and rework it from the start.  
  
Don't cry! I'm sorry. But I will continue under a new name, because *whisper*I'm sort of running away from this penname*whisper* (!) So keep checking, and someday, when you look up the author "Camryn Morlegg" *cough*hinthint*cough*, you might find a story veerrry similar... So don't be discouraged! I can never think of abandoning my stories!  
  
(You must all hate me very much now. This is all for the better of this story. When I rework it, it will be better, grander, more catching, etc.)  
  
SORRY!!!  
  
ps ~ Thank you, reviewers! I'm so sorry! I'm REALLY sorry but this story will make its return and RESURRECTION!!!  
  
pps ~ Same goes for my other story, Sweet Potato or something. 


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